Always Ask When
by Isil Elen
Summary: Pre-series, one-shot from Xelloss's POV. How Xelloss met Lina. Rated L for Loopholes.


Author's note: Xelloss, Lina, and everyone else belong to lots of people who are not me. This would take place about two years before the series. Now, I have no idea what cannon says about why Lina left home, but if I'm wrong, I look at it this way: If this is what happened, do you think Lina would ever admit to it?

* * *

Ah, Zefielia. Nice country. There is a sleepy town on the slopes of beautiful hills, bounded between mountains and a pretty little half-circle bay with the Outer Sea beyond it. Perfect for growing grapes, an ideal wine-producing region. The scenery doesn't bother me, but nonetheless it is with extreme distaste that I pick my way through the Astral Plane overlaying the town. It's not that I've been spoiled by areas outside the seal; I'm used to the stench of dragon-kin infiltrating my native plane. I bind my aura until I'm a fist-sized globe of condensed darkness, weaving an intricate path through patches of lesser darkness and avoiding the glowing strands of the wards that loom before me far too frequently for my comfort.

The things I do for my Lord.

My Lord Beastmaster has sent me into this maze of warding to check on a human girl no older than twelve, who my Lord believes could be extremely useful. All the other potentials over the centuries have had their usefulness end long before the point we'd hoped for, and I would be skeptical about this one if not for one thing. Well, multiple things. I slip carefully between the strands of another ward, being vary careful to not set it off and alert the one who created it to my presence. My Lord Beastmaster's reassurances aside, I have no wish to attract the attention of the one who has so thoroughly and expertly warded this area. A less-skilled Mazoku would not be able to slip unnoticed into town, and even a sorcerer moderately skilled in black magic would set off the wards. The further I am able to penetrate the web of magic, the more I agree with my Lord Beastmaster's assessment. I haven't even scented this girl yet, but she has obviously been protected against the possibility of Mazoku interference.

An aura like a jumping flame catches my attention, standing out from the tiny, dull auras of the people around her. Despite myself, I am impressed. Give her a few years, and this slip of a girl could potentially the most powerful sorceress in several generations. That fiery aura sways this way and that as though checking to see if the coast is clear, then scurries into a nearby building. I look around as well, but the aura that created these wards is nowhere to be seen. Maneuvering slowly through the crisscrossing strands, I follow the girl into the building and sink almost into the physical plane to get a look at her.

Short, thin, athletic, and with hair as fiery as her aura. She's on her hands and knees, scooting between two dust-covered racks of ancient wine bottles. There are no wards in this cool, dim wine cellar, and I am able to sneak up behind her easily. Carefully, carefully I extend the thinnest possible tendril of my substance. Easy now, slip it slowly into her aura, don't want her to notice me. More importantly, I don't want her protector to notice me, or what I'm doing. Slowly I work my tendril deeper into her aura, and slowly work it back out, leaving behind a seed of myself. My Lord Beastmaster approves. Through this anchor, I will be able to keep tabs on the girl – hear what she hears, see what she sees, and get a general feel for what she's thinking through the state of her aura. And, of course, My Lord Beastmaster can do the same – through me.

Mission accomplished! Time to leave the area before my luck runs out. I slip back towards the maze of warding that chokes the Astral Plane around this town, and am almost out of the cellar when there is a cascading crash from behind me. One of the dust-covered wine racks has tipped over, leaving a wine-soaked wreckage of smashed wood and shattered glass. The girl is frozen on her knees with one hand up and a look of blank shock on her face. After several seconds, the shock thaws and is replaced by dawning horror that radiates from her most deliciously. The horror in turn gives way to mindless, gibbering panic that tingles pleasantly and makes me feel almost light-headed with its intensity. The wonderful emotions combine with the comical way she's scrabbling to get out without doing any more damage and send me into a fit of silent laughter. The girl fumbles with the door and tears out and down the street. I unbind my aura slightly, expanding to the size of a small child, and just enjoy the negative emotions the anchor in her aura is feeding me, sipping them in this ward-free area like a rich man sipping wine on a balcony. Power, potential, and delicious reactions. Whether she turns out to be useful to us or not, I'm going to enjoy working with this one.

PAIN!

Claws of white-hot, blinding energy close around my still-mostly-bound aura, trapping me. Before I can recover from the pain and seep out between the huge talons, they tighten their grip and the tips sink into my substance, searing, burning away the parts of me they touch. Escape is impossible; with these claws holding me still, I'd shred myself trying to get away. I flinch away from that all-pervasive aura, binding myself tighter and thus making myself into a smaller, more easily-contained ball. I'm going to die, that's all there is to it. An incarnate, aware fragment of the Flare Dragon has me in her claws. I'm a goner.

::Silly pup! You're not going to die.::

My Lord Beastmaster is amused by my justifiable panic. After all, when one is ancient and nigh-indestructible, being faced with one of the few things that can bring about one's end is all the scarier for having one's hubris challenged. Still, I trust my Lord implicitly and her words come to me as they always do, through the seed of her substance that forms the core of mine, cutting through the panic and reminding me of my place. I am Priest and General to My Lord Beastmaster. I am not going to die. The panic is devoured by cold assurance, and while I can't quite regain my usual state of calm, I'm no longer terrified. Only in blinding pain.

::XELLOSS METALLIUM! WHERE IS MY SISTER?::

The words are a thunderous roar on the Astral Plane, a sonic concussion of that corrosive aura impacting against my condensed substance, heightening the pain and reviving the panic briefly.

::Ididn'tdoit!:: The protest is a reflex born of being faced with a being so much more powerful than myself, and being at that being's mercy. Seeing as _this_ being is a fragment of the Flare Dragon, and I am of Lord Ruby Eye's race, there is no logical reason why there should _be_ any mercy. I must trust in My Lord Beastmaster's word and pray that with the Flare Dragon's Knight touching my aura as she is, she will know that I am telling the truth. The girl's potential must be tremendous if the Flare Dragon's Knight calls her 'sister' and guards her personally.

::I KNOW YOU DIDN'T.:: That voice thunders impatiently at me. ::BUT YOU'RE GOING TO FOLLOW HER FOR ME AND TELL HER THAT I'M NOT MAD AT HER, AND THAT IT'S SAFE TO COME HOME.::

That burning, blinding aura demands obedience from her helpless enemy by virtue of the fact that she could kill me easily if I refuse, relying on that threat to cut through all the reasons why I should not obey the command of my race's greatest enemy. Instinctively, I scramble to form some sort of refusal that won't get me killed, considering and discarding excuses as fast as I think of them.

::Accept.::

I drop the half-formed refusal immediately, that one word indicating to me that My Lord Beastmaster has found a way to turn this menial task to our advantage. After a moment, I am able to see the possibilities as well. Shame on me for letting my panic get in the way of such a beautiful plot!

::I will tell her.:: I open the negotiations with a misleadingly open agreement, and wait for the conditional rebuttal.

::YOU SWEAR ON YOUR NAME?::

Oh, this is too easy. ::On my name, I swear I will tell her.:: Her aura is much more powerful than mine; she will be able to hold me to my promise, but it is a small enough concession.

The claws retract from my substance and the majority of that brilliant aura recedes, letting me collect myself.

::THEN GO.::

I take off like a shot, going right through the wards without flinching. She knows I am here, no reason to avoid them. My path angles upwards, away from the town and deeper into the Astral Plane, where the empty sky of the physical plane provides no interference for those creatures native to this plane. When I am out of range of the wards, I unbind my aura with an almost-audible snap, expanding until I cover an area the size of the town I've just left. The little creatures native to this part of the Astral Plane scurry away, terrified, and I laugh with delight in their fear, and in our victory. I didn't expect the Knight of the Flare Dragon to be so naïve! The girl has left the town, and will not return on her own for fear of her sister's wrath. While she's away from those wards, we will have a free hand with her – and she won't return for a very long time. The Flare Dragon's Knight has handed us this girl of her own will and by her own words, and all because of one tiny mistake.

It's true, I did swear on my name to tell the girl that it's safe for her to go home.

I didn't specify WHEN I would tell her.


End file.
